Sakura Petals and Thin Mints
by MidnightDeception
Summary: Byakuya's peaceful day is thrown into turmoil by his loud, obnoxious, amazing vice-captain. Things happen, leaving Byakuya confused about Renji. Maybe Ukitake can help...ByaRen fluff.


Kuchiki Byakuya basked in the early morning silence. Outside the sixth division offices, the trees swayed in an easy summer breeze. While the captain tediously filled out paperwork, his mind wandered freely. Without realizing it, he began humming softly.

The serenity of the moment was shattered as the sliding door slammed open. The captain did not even glance up before speaking.

"You're late, Abarai fukutaicho."

The redhead bowed deeply, his shoulders shaking as he tried to catch his breath.

"Gomenasai, taicho. I over slept again."

The Kuchiki noble continued to write in silence, deciding not to point out the cause of the other man's tardiness.

Abarai had been out drinking late.

Kuchiki realized the vice-captain was waiting at the doorway for an answer.

"I would say not to let it happen again, Abarai, but that course of action does not seem effective." The younger man flinched. "You're not going to get any paperwork done by standing in the doorway."

Renji bowed again and walked to his desk. He collapsed into his chair, making it squeal across the floor. He pulled a stack of paper towards him, smacking them against the desk to align the pages.

It amazed the captain how his underling could even make paperwork a noisy task.

He blinked, clearing his mind of distraction before carefully pulling another sheet of paper off the tall stack.

After a long stretch of what passed for silence, the vice-captain looked up from his work.

"Uh, taicho?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"What is it, Abarai?" The nobleman answered without looking up.

"What is it that you're humming? It sounds...familiar."

Byakuya looked up, startled. He had been humming? As he searched his mind for the nameless tune, a faintly familiar reiatsu appeared, heading directly towards the sixth division offices. The grip on his brush tightened, causing his line to jump almost imperceptibly. He let out a fast breath, almost like a sigh.

Kuchiki could feel Abarai looking at him, waiting for an answer. He also felt the fluctuation in his subordinate's reiatsu as he processed his captain's actions. The captain knew that Abarai was blowing things way out of proportion in his mind, but did not have time to comment before the door was slammed open for the second time that day.

"Yo-Yoruichi-sama!" Renji stuttered, staring wide eyed at the woman in the doorway. Kuchiki turned slowly to the door, eyeing the Shihouin princess. She looked almost the same as his childhood memories, the sly smile and wide golden eyes brimming with interest. Her captain's haori was replaced with an orange shirt and black leggings, an outfit he had become familiar with as the woman's presence in Seireitei became more frequent.

"I came to visit Byahime!"

"Bya-hi-" Abarai whispered, in shock.

Byakuya turned instantly to his vice-captain, pitching his voice low.

"Don't you dare finish that word, Abarai Renji." The captain's hand tightened into a fist at his waist where Senbonzakura normally rested.

The vice-captain gulped loudly and nodded.

"Aww, don't be mean, Byahime," Yoruichi purred.

"Yoruichi Shihouin, how many times have I told you not to call me that?" The captain's voice was low, even more threatening than when he had been addressing his vice-captain.

"One time too many, Byahime, considering you've yet to realize I'm never going to stop." Yoruichi pouted, running a dark hand through her purple hair.

Byakuya took a deep, calming breath, smoothing the lines of his face again into its listless facade. He refused to rise to this woman's baiting. He splayed his hands on top of the desk, putting his weight on them as he rose.

"Even though you refuse to use my correct title, as our guest, you are welcome to anything at our disposal." Kuchiki kept his voice smooth, even as he saw the mischief bubbling in her eyes.

"In that case, I'd like to borrow Renji." Yoruichi glided over to the fukutaicho's desk and grabbed his arm.

"May I ask why?" Kuchiki looked away as Abarai sent him a pleading look, asking silently to save him.

"Ichigo's having a bit of a dry spell. I need Renji here for training. Don't worry, I'll have him back to you by lunch...more or less in one piece." The woman shrugged.

Abarai's eyes widened at Yoruichi's calloused words. Again, he sent a pleading look his captain's direction. "But, taicho, the papers-"

"Will still be here when you return." The noble finished for him. "Consider this your punishment for being tardy once again." Ignoring the flabbergasted look on his lieutenant's face, the captain turned to Yoruichi. "Have him back by lunch, he still has much to finish here."

The werecat nodded, pulling Abarai easily to his feet. "See you later, Byahime." In an instant, she disappeared through the door, a reluctant Abarai in tow.

Kuchiki settled back into his chair. Getting directly back to work, the noble could not help but note the drastic change in the room.

The silence felt odd, not the same quiet peace from this morning. There was something missing...

The noble twitched when he realized the difference the presence of his vice-captain made on his day. Compared to the constant noise Abarai made, the office seemed almost deathly silent. He turned his thoughts to the papers in front of him, trying not to dwell on how empty the room was without his vice-captain's brash reiatsu.

The captain began humming the same tune, still searching for the name of the half-forgotten song. It took his mind off the silence.

Paperwork is terrible in that while it keeps your hands busy, it is such a routine task that one's mind is no longer engaged. That is why the noble's thoughts kept returning to his missing fukutaicho.

His wild reiatsu was like the crickets on summer nights, a background that you do not miss until winter when it has gone. Kuchiki's own reiatsu seemed like a cold cloak weighing on his shoulders.

_**"What beasts can see is, in the end, no more than the moon reflected in water. Though they may struggle to capture it, they shall only sink to the water's depths." **_

Byakuya remembered his harsh words from so long ago. While not much physical time had passed, so much had happened where everyone grew considerably, some growing up and some growing old. Abarai always wished to surpass his captain, and Kuchiki had told him that it was impossible. Their relationship had its origins in the animosity between a man and his goals, and the captain had always admired Abarai for his audacity and determination. However, somewhere in the course of time, he had stopped looking at his vice-captain as a _beast_ and more like a trusted compatriot. After achieving Bankai, Abarai himself had stopped looking at Kuchiki like the _moon_ and more like an equal. Sometime during the chaos, they had truly become captain and vice, truly become companions.

The captain shook his head, erasing the crease between his eyes. Abarai's personality always found ways to undermine his well-constructed noble mask. Emotions where unbecoming to a noble, but even when the mask was firmly in place Abarai could always read his captain's face. Kuchiki worked hard to keep the same level of separation between him and his vice-captain, but Abarai invariably found a way through his defenses.

There was just something about that man that got under his skin.

A shiver ran down the captain's spine, catching the man off guard. Even while absent, the vice-captain ruined the rigorously perfected control the noble had worked so hard to obtain.

The captain found himself checking the clock frequently. Every time he glanced up from his work, he scolded himself for his impatience. He carefully set down the brush he was working with and rubbed his temples. A headache threatened to burst his skull and his thin line of self-control. He closed his eyes and resisted the urge to drop his head to the desktop. Slowly the captain stretched in his seat, trying to work the stiffness out of his body. Settling back into his chair, Kuchiki picked up his brush and returned to his work, purposefully avoiding looking at the clock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The clock taunted. The silence was too much to bear. The captain remembered Abarai telling him of a personal music box where you could choose which songs it played. He never wished for a real world invention so much before.

Ignoring the oppressive silence and abnormally loud clock, the captain pulled all of his self-control around him like a wall and shut out the world.

Several hours later, Kuchiki Byakuya was interrupted by a very familiar reiatsu approaching the sixth division offices. He looked up expectantly and let out a long breath before forcing himself to return to his dwindling stack of papers. Mechanically filling out yet another form, the captain searched his underling's reiatsu.

Abarai was injured.

His spiritual energy flared in anger, a seething mass of power following him like a storm cloud. Kuchiki could tell that his fukutaicho had been injured because of a stupid mistake by how the anger was directed both inward and outward. As he got closer, the razor sharp edges of the redhead's anger grated against the captain's own spiritual energy almost painfully.

Abarai had never been the best at controlling reiatsu, almost as a rule. His kido was patchy at best, more likely to blow up in his face than hit his target. However, even with his control, Abarai had never leaked energy at this level before. The captain glanced at the clock, finding it to much earlier than he had expected. The injury must be bad enough to keep him from fighting.

As the writhing cloud of spiritual pressure came closer, the captain released more of his own energy to combat the overbearing reiatsu. Finally, footsteps sounded against the wooden walkway outside the offices. Without hesitating, Abarai flung open the door, standing dramatically in the doorway.

Kuchiki carefully set his brush down and looked up to assess the state of his vice-captain.

Navy eyes widened in shock.

Renji's hair was loose, blowing wildly in the breeze. It had been ages since the captain had seen his fiery mane outside of its binding ponytail. Morning sunlight poured in through the doorway around him, Renji's shadow thrown across the room. A diagonal gash across his chest slowly dripped blood onto the torn fabric from shoulder to hip. The white bandana that normally rested on the vice-captain's forehead was tied tightly on one forearm, blood staining the fabric.

The captain blinked and the moment was over. The vice-captain slammed the door shut behind him, grumbling to himself. He took Zabimaru from his hip and threw the sheathed sword on his cluttered desk. Completely ignoring his captain, Renji shrugged out of his kosode and yukata, turning his back to his captain before throwing them over the back of his chair. Byakuya watched in fascination as black tattoos roiled over heavy muscle. Renji half turned, poking curiously at the wound. His hakama dropped low on his hips, showing even more dark, tattooed skin on his stomach and thighs.

The captain reached for another paper to make himself look away, only to find the stack gone. Byakuya blinked and swallowed hard, gathering his shattered control around him.

"That was my last good uniform," Abarai mumbled to himself. "Damn Ichigo. I guess I'd better head over to the fourth division."

"No."

The single syllable made Abarai look up in alarm. His face was shocked, as if he had completely forgotten that is captain was even there. Kuchiki folded his hands together on the desk.

"Tai...cho..." Abarai whispered, obviously trying to think of an explanation for why he was half-naked in the office.

"If you go to the fourth division now, you will knock out half the squad," the noble explained, his voice surprisingly smooth. "Check your reiatsu level before you break something."

His captain's cold, even voice snapped Abarai back to the present situation. The redhead closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Almost immediately, the oppressive spiritual pressure faded. The captain ignored the ripple of muscle in his fukutaicho's well-defined chest and adjusted his reiatsu level as well. The room was filled with lingering energy, the air itself seemingly charged. Kuchiki took a calming breath before speaking again.

"What happened?"

"Well, it was partially my fault," Renji admitted, his face flushing as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. Using all of his self-control, the captain locked eyes with the redhead, determined not to glance down. "I wasn't paying attention and got caught by a stray Getsuga Tensho."

"I see," was all the captain said. He could see the younger man wither under his even gaze. He let out something very close to a sigh and pushed himself up from his chair. "Nothing else to do then."

"What do you mean, Taicho?" Abarai's voice was shaky as his captain approached. Kuchiki caught the younger man's wrist, pulling his arm up and removing the bloody bandana.

"I'm going to heal you, Abarai fukutaicho." He inspected the wound, rotating the arm carefully. "This doesn't seem to be beyond my abilities.

"What?" Abarai asked, his mouth gaping. "I mean, why? You don't have to, I can just get Hanataru..." The vice captain trailed off as Kuchiki placed his hand over the wound, his reiatsu warm against the tanned and blood smeared skin. The younger man's hand twitched uncomfortably as he watched his skin knit back together, the movement opening the wound again. The captain made a noise in his throat and shifted his grip on the other man's arm until he held both hand and wrist. He ignored it as his vice-captain's fingers closed reflexively around his hand, tightening as Abarai hissed in pain. He looked up from the shallow wound into the taller man's auburn eyes.

They were standing closer than he expected.

"Of course it's necessary, Abarai," Kuchiki answered, keeping his voice stable through sheer force of will. "You were injured because of a stupid mistake on your part. Do you really want to explain your lack of concentration to someone from the fourth division?"

Renji looked away, his eyebrows furrowing, pulling his facial tattoos with them.

"I guess you have a point," he mumbled. "But still, you don't have to do this. I don't mind taking responsibility for my mistakes."

"Your actions reflect onto me," Byakuya explained, running his fingers briefly over the healed skin of Renji's arm before dropping his wrist. "I will fall under scrutiny for letting you go fight that boy during working hours in the first place. Think of it as me taking responsibility for my actions."

The redhead flexed his fingers and rotated his wrist experimentally, staring at his captain with a look of shock. The noble coolly returned his gaze while removing his gloves.

"Lay down," Kuchiki pointed at the couch against the far wall of the office. The vice-captain's eyes widened even more.

"W-wha-what?" he stuttered. Kuchiki blinked slowly, waiting for the younger man to obey. When he did not, the captain placed a strong hand against the redhead's shoulder and pushed.

Byakuya ignored the feel of the hard muscle under his hand.

Wordlessly, Abarai shuffled backwards, almost falling when his calves met the couch. He sank slowly onto the cushions. The couch was not large enough for Renji's tall frame, so the vice-captain crossed his arms beneath his head and dangled his legs over the arm.

"Besides," the captain said, kneeling next to where Abarai laid on the couch, "if we would have waited for a fourth division member, you would have bled on the carpets." He broke eye contact and turned to examine the wound marring the younger man's torso.

Like the gash on his arm, the wound was shallow but bleeding profusely. Blood ran from the cut, obscuring parts of his stomach tattoos and staining the top of his hakama.

Kuchiki debated on whether or not to call someone from the fourth division anyway. He was trained in first aid kido like all captains, Zaraki Kenpachi notwithstanding, but he had never tried healing something so large.

"Looks bad, don' it?" Renji slurred, his eyes half closed. He hissed and dropped his head. Kuchiki turned to see that his vice-captain's face had turned deathly pale. "Ne'er really liked the sight of me own blood. Damn tha' strawberry."

Listening to his fukutaicho revert to his Rukongai drawl forced Kuchiki's resolve to harden. Abarai had abandoned that way of talking long ago and only lapsed into it while either drunk, tired, or seriously hurt. The captain splayed his hands over the bloody chest of his fukutaicho and poured reiatsu through his palms. It spread across the wound, sinking into the gash.

"Mmm... Smells nice," Renji muttered, his eyes closed. He probably did not even realize he spoke aloud. Byakuya watched in wonder as the bleeding stopped and the wound began to close. Where the wound overlapped the tattoos, the new skin came in already pigmented, confirming that the marks where from his zanpakuto, not an ink gun. The captain had never heard of someone being marked by their zanpakuto in such a way. Abarai really was a remarkable man. As the wound closed, Byakuya dropped his hands onto the hard planes of Renji's chest, running his hands lightly over where the wound was, continuing to pour reiatsu into his fukutaicho.

He ignored the shivers and contented sound Renji made deep in the back of his throat.

The captain sat back on his heels, folding his hands in his lap, careful of the blood on his palms. The color was back in the younger man's face, a good sign even though his eyes were still closed and his breathing ragged.

"How do you feel?" The noble asked, his voice soft and even.

Abarai's eyes flew open and he sat up quickly. His hand ghosted over where the wound had been, evident only in the line of drying blood.

"I'm fine," he whispered, turning wide eyes to his captain. "Amazing in fact. Arigato, Taicho."

Kuchiki nodded silently and got to his feet. Abarai swung his feet around and stood as well. The captain walked over to the desk, pulling the white yukata off the chair and locating a clean section. He wiped his own hands, then turned and offered it to his vice-captain.

"Here. You may use the water I prepared for tea earlier to wash off. I will send for a replacement uniform."

Abarai took it gratefully, his rough fingers brushing the back of his captain's hand for an instant.

"Arigato, taicho," he smiled. "Oh, you don't have to get me a new uniform. I've got some extra clothes in the other room."

Kuchiki's brow threatened to furrow in confusion. "You said that that was your last uniform."

"It is," the vice-captain answered, walking to the door that led to the small kitchenette. "I'll pick up a new one on my way home. I've got another outfit here." He disappeared behind the wooden screen before the captain could say anything.

Kuchiki walked slowly back to his desk, more woozy than he would like to admit. As he sank gratefully into his chair, he remembered why he usually refrained from using healing kido. He could heal fairly well, but not very efficiently, wasting his reiatsu by forcing the cells to repair themselves. He rubbed his temples, his headache from earlier returning with a vengeance. The noble wished for a steaming cup of tea, but knew his vice-captain was using the water to wash off. The image of a half-naked Renji crossed his mind. Byakuya quickly banished the image, letting out a noise dangerously close to a groan as he buried his face in his hands.

Again, he gathered his shattered self-control around him, straightening his back and dropping his hands. The noble pulled out a clean sheet of paper. Quickly, he wrote a letter to the tailor instructing to charge and deliver three shihakushos of Abarai's size to the Kuchiki manor.

He signed it and laid it aside to dry. Almost immediately, the door to the kitchenette slid open. Abarai emerged in a fresh shihakusho. Instead of the normal black, the hakama was white and the kosode was a light blue, secured with a pale grey hakama-himo. Dark skin and tattoos contrasted starkly against the light fabric. His fiery red hair was braided back loosely, long strands falling into his face. In his hands, he carried two steaming cups of tea.

Byakuya had never been more amazed by his fukutaicho. He watched carefully as Renji walked slowly to his captain's desk, mindful of the hot liquid in his hands. The younger man's eyes flickered between the full cups and his awaiting taicho. Finally reaching the desk, Renji gently set the cup on the desk.

"I thought you might like some tea," Renji answered.

Byakuya was silent as he gazed in amazement at the tall shinigami.

"Captain, you're staring..." Renji trailed off, blowing at his tea. The statement brought Kuchiki back to his senses.

"I do not stare, Abarai," he said, grabbing the warm cup before him. "I simply observe."

"Well, you were observing pretty intensely there, taicho," Abarai took a swig, gagging at the still steaming tea. The noble sipped carefully from his own glass.

Perfect as always.

"Forgive me, Abarai fukutaicho. It was just your impeccable timing. I had just thought of tea before you brought it out to me. Arigato."

For the second time, Abarai almost spewed his tea all over his captain. The Kuchiki noble knew that his words of thanks were rare, but he never expected such a violent reaction.

"N-no problem, taicho," the redhead stuttered, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled his hair. "I know you usually have me make tea about now, and it was the least I could do considering I used the first pot of water to clean the blood off my stomach and I-." The noble simply looked at the younger man until he realized he was rambling. Abarai's jaw clamped shut with an audible snap. The vice-captain bowed deeply, apologizing profusely, almost forgetting the cup in his hand.

"Abarai."

"Yes, taicho?" The redhead snapped to attention.

"Paperwork."

"OH! Gomen, taicho!" He bowed again, more hair falling from the braid. Kuchiki stood and walked to a large bookshelf. Glancing briefly at the titles before reaching for a volume bound in green leather on the top shelf. Suddenly, Byakuya could feel the heat from his fukutaicho as Renji stepped close behind him. "Here, taicho let me help." Renji put a hand lightly on the shorter man's shoulder blade and leaned forward, reaching for the book.

Byakuya inhaled sharply, almost tasting the unique scent of the redhead. His head swam, suddenly dizzy, and he grabbed the shelf he had been reaching for trying not to topple forward. The sleeve of his kosode slipped up past his elbow.

Renji gasped. He dropped the book he had grabbed and gently took his captain's arm. Byakuya's eyes shot open as he was spun around. He glared at the taller man, only to find his vice-captain's eyes riveted on the pale arm in his hands. The redhead lightly traced the numerous pale, crisscrossing scars on Byakuya's arm, slowly pushing his sleeve back.

Byakuya ignored the goose bumps and shiver Renji's touch caused.

"Taicho..." Renji whispered. "What happened?"

Kuchiki became suddenly aware of the bookshelf pressing into his back and the proximity of the other man. The captain pulled his arm out of Abarai's grasp and breezed by the shocked redhead.

"Senbonzakura is a willful spirit. Do not think you are the only one who bears the marks of struggle." The noble sat at his desk and folded his arms into the large sleeves of his kosode. He stared at the wood grain and held his face and reiatsu painfully even. Mentally, he was kicking himself. To be caught that off guard would be the end of him. So few people knew about his marks, and he had wanted to keep it that way. Abarai had found out completely on a fluke, all because the noble had not been paying attention. Again, the space between the two men grew smaller, making Kuchiki that much more uncomfortable.

Abarai set the book down on the desk, making the noble blink in surprise. He looked up at his vice-captain, noticing the frown and crease between his eyes. Wordlessly he dropped the captain's gloves onto the book then turned and headed back to his desk.

"Abarai..." the noble started. The vice-captain did not even hesitate.

"Sorry, taicho. If you want to explain, that's cool with me, but I'm not going to pry. I obviously wasn't supposed to find out that way, so it's up to you how you respond."

The noble resisted the urge to gape like a fish.

He had not expected the notoriously hotheaded man to be so understanding. Kuchiki hesitated for only a moment before speaking.

"For every strength, there is struggle. For every peace, a war. Senbonzakura told me that when I first asked his name. He said that in order to gain his power, I would have to pay with my pain. He wanted me to know the sting of every petal so I would know the true price of my power. Just like your marks, no amount of kido can erase these scars." He did not look at Abarai while he talked. Kuchiki's eyes unfocused as he remembered sitting on that hill surrounded by the swirling mass of pink and feeling every separate petal bite into his skin. Absentmindedly, he picked up his tekkou and pulled them on.

"Is that why you wear so many layers?" Abarai's voice was soft. The noble looked up to his vice-captain sitting at his desk, re-braiding his hair.

"Yes."

The redhead let out a low whistle.

"As someone who was on the sharp end of Senbonzakura, I can honestly say I feel your pain." A huge smile spread across his face, signaling to his captain that he was joking. "What happened when you achieved Bankai?"

"I returned the treatment, though Senbonzakura didn't take it as gracefully as I did."

Abarai burst out laughing, dropping his hands to the desk and rocking forward. His unfinished braid unraveled as he wiped at his eyes.

''You're not bad captain,'' he glanced at the clock. ''I wonder what the kitchen's serving for lunch. Something good I hope. I'm starving.''

''If it pleases you, you may come to the Kuchiki manor for lunch.'' Abarai's mouth dropped open.

''Seriously, taicho?'' his voice was incredulous. Kuchiki knew he had a reputation of not allowing people on the premises ever since he kicked the Women's Shinigami Association out.

''If I was not serious, I would not have extended the invitation, Abarai fukutaicho.'' The noble looked at the clock, finding it much later than he expected. Time seemed to move faster with his vice-captain around. "If you are ready, then we can leave now, though there are just a few errands I must run on our way."

"By all means, taicho," Abarai said, standing. "Lead the way." The captain stood and folded the letter into his kosode.

Several minutes later, the pair approached the outer gate to the manor house. Kuchiki watched Abarai's jaw drop with silent humor. The vice-captain had been to the manor house before, but had never entered through the front gate. Looking at it from his fukutaicho's point of view, the noble realized what sort of image the sprawling grounds and manicured lawn presented. It was amazing.

A small door opened in the gate, a woman coming through and walking quickly towards the pair. As she got closer, Kuchiki recognized her as one of the older servants in the manor. Her grey hair was pulled back tightly from her face, and her green kimono was in perfect order.

"Kuchiki-sama," she said, bowing deeply. "Good afternoon."

"Mayuki," the noble said, slightly inclining his head. "This is Abarai Renji, my vice-captain and guest for today's meal."

The small woman bowed deeply to Abarai, making the redhead uncomfortable.

"Forgive me, Kuchiki-sama," Mayuki said, not meeting his eyes, "but the kitchen staff is not here today. You gave them permission for the day off. Would you like me to make alternative arrangements?"

The noble's eyes widened in disbelief. How had he forgotten about something like that, and in front of a guest no less. He turned to Abarai, words of apology already on his lips.

The redhead smiled and addressed the servant.

"That won't be necessary, Mayuki. Please, just take us to the kitchens."

"What?" the servant and noble said together before regaining their composure. Mayuki bowed, turned on her heel and began leading them towards the manor.

"I'm going to cook us lunch," Abarai stated, a huge smile on his face.

"I invited you here, Abarai. I couldn't possibly allow a guest to cook for me."

"Hey, chillax. It's the least I can do. I don't mind cooking for you, taicho, and considering all that's happened today, I'm greatly in your debt. Let me do this, and we'll call it even."

The noble just nodded, flabbergasted. Chillax? What was that supposed to mean? As they walked through the halls, Kuchiki's mind was swirling. How many rules was just agreeing to let Abarai into the kitchens breaking? He began loosing count. Finally, he decided to let go and see how it turned out, but even that thought was difficult to accept.

Before he realized it, Mayuki slid open the door to the kitchen and excused herself. Abarai walked in, his mouth agape. The noble briefly recalled never being in the kitchen himself before. He sat himself at the huge island, watching Abarai dig through cabinets. The redhead pulled out seemingly random ingredients, a stupid smile on his face.

"What is so humorous, Abarai?" Kuchiki asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"You've got everything!" He exclaimed, pulling a large bag from under the counter. "Ingredients I've only ever read about. This is like a chef's dream come true."

"Are you calling yourself a chef?" the dark haired shinigami asked, a smile tweaking one side of his mouth minutely. Abarai caught the twitch and smiled wider.

"Not exactly a chef, more like a food enthusiast. I've learned to cook a lot simply because the communal kitchen doesn't dish out enough food for what they charge. Don't tell Matsumoto, but the food's not very tasty either." He paused, looking at the box in his hands. "I didn't think you liked sweets, taicho."

Kuchiki looked at the box of cookies in his hand and shook his head.

"I don't. It seems you've stumbled upon Rukia's stash."

"Well, she won't mind if I take some." He popped the box open, munching loudly on the cookie. He swallowed and made a face. "These are terrible. In the real world, they have these things called Girl Scouts who sell the best cookies ever. They have some called Samoas and its got coconut, caramel, and chocolate all on one cookie." Abarai continued listing the different kinds of sweets he had bought from Kurosaki's little sister.

"You seem well versed in their repertoire of cookies, Abarai. I had no idea you had such an extensive sweet tooth." The redhead just grinned.

"They even have a cookie that you would like. I'll have to get Urahara-san to get you a box."

"I do not enjoy sweets."

"Trust me, taicho. You'll like these. They aren't overly sweet and they have a unique texture. Can't diss them until you try them."

Once again, the noble was confused by his speech. Every time Abarai went into the real world, he came back with a wide range of new vocabulary. He just shook his head and consented.

"Whatever you say, Abarai. What are you preparing for lunch?"

"Shogayaki," he answered, metal mixing bowl and frying pan clanging loudly together in his hands. "Where do you keep the sake?"

"I do not know. This is my first time in the kitchen," the noble answered truthfully. Abarai paused.

"You've never been in your own kitchen?"

"No."

"Don't tell me you don't know how to cook." Abarai dropped the pans onto the counter before heading towards the refrigerator.

"I am the head of the Kuchiki family. Why would I need to know how to cook?"

Abarai hit his head on the refrigerator door in disbelief.

"You've never cooked?"

"No."

"Never?"

"Abarai." Kuchiki's voice was a low warning. He hated repeating himself.

"Gomen, taicho. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around you never cooking for yourself." He paused to search through the refrigerator, pulling out a white wrapped bundle of pork. He grabbed a few other things and carried them to the island. The redhead located a long knife and a cutting board and began slicing up the pork.

"Is there any thing I can do to help?" the noble's voice was soft and uncertain. He felt awkward watching his vice-captain cook for him, but he did not know enough about food preparation to be of much help. The redhead smiled widely and offered him the knife, handle first.

"I thought you'd never ask. You can slice up the pork while I start the rice and marinade."

Kuchiki took the knife and walked around to the other side of the island. "I thought Shogayaki was served with cabbage."

"Normally it is, but I'll tell you a secret." He leaned in conspiratorially. "It's better on rice." He laughed loudly and began mixing ingredients in the large mixing bowl. As the noble began slicing the pork into roughly the same size strips that Abarai had, he watched his fukutaicho out of the corner of his eye. The redhead poured directly from the bottles into the bowl.

"Shouldn't you be using measuring cups?" Kuchiki asked. Without looking up, the redhead shook his head.

"Nope. After a while, you know how much is enough. Besides, even the best recipe is open for interpretation." He grabbed a stick of ginger and began grating it into the bowl, pausing occasionally to check the amount. Content with the mixture, Abarai dropped what was left of the ginger in a growing pile of leftover ingredients. "I think that's enough pork," he commented, pulling the whole piece from the cutting board and rewrapping it in the white butcher paper. Before the noble could react, Abarai was pushing a whole cabbage in front of him. "Cut that in half, then cut up one half like you did the pork."

The noble watched at a loss for words as his vice-captain waltzed around the kitchen, returning unused ingredients, pulling out a large pot, and filling it with water to boil.

"I thought we were serving this with rice, not cabbage." The noble refrained from furrowing his brow.

"We're serving it with both," the vice-captain stated, lugging the heavy pot over to the stove. "Just trust me."

Kuchiki turned back to the cutting board without saying a word. Could trust earned on the battlefield really apply in such mundane situations? The captain was shocked to find the answer to be yes. Silently he chopped up the cabbage, his mind elsewhere.

Abarai came and began raking the pork strips into his mixing bowl. He produced a wooden spoon from out of nowhere and began tossing the meat, making sure every piece was evenly covered. Kuchiki set down the knife and turned to him.

"How is this?" he asked, gesturing to the large pile of chopped cabbage. Abarai reached across the older man and grabbed a strip.

"Perfect," he said, popping it in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "Now we let the pork marinate for five minutes. You can sit down, I can do the rest by myself." Turning on a heel, the redhead returned to the stove, checking the pot of rice and adding this and that to it. Kuchiki walked slowly back to his seat, again feeling awkward at his inability to help. Normally having others cook for him was nothing special, and he did not think about it twice. However, having his fukutaicho prove himself so adept in the kitchen made the noble feel spoiled and out of his depth.

He watched Abarai pour oil into a warm frying pan. After a moment, he added the contents from the mixing bowl, stirring it with the same wooden spoon. The pan sizzled and popped, filling the room with a delicious aroma. The noble felt his stomach growl in response. He had not realized how hungry he was until that moment.

"How much longer until it is finished?" Kuchiki asked, trying not to sound impatient.

"Smells great doesn't it?" Abarai threw a wink over his shoulder. "It should be ready soon."

The noble propped his head on his hand as he watched Abarai cook. The redhead bounced between pans, mixing and peppering, tasting and correcting. He abandoned the pan, searching through the cabinets until he found two serving bowls. He dished out two helpings of rice, balancing both bowls carefully on one arm. He smiled at his captain as he grabbed a handful of cabbage from the cutting board and spread it evenly over the rice. Abarai spun back around, his braid falling over one shoulder, somehow keeping the bowls perfectly balanced. Back at the stove, he poured the pork and excess sauce over the bed of cabbage and rice. He set the spoon down on the counter and turned the heat under the pans down.

"TA-DA," Abarai exclaimed, walking back to the island where his captain sat. "One Shogayaki served on rice for the captain." He carefully set the overfull bowl in front of the noble. "And one for me," he added, setting his bowl down next to the captain on the end of the island. His hands now free, he dug through a few drawers until he found two pairs of chopsticks. The noble took the offered pair, nodding in silent thanks.

"Lets hope this tastes as good as it smells," Kuchiki said, grabbing a strip of pork with his chopsticks. Abarai laughed good-naturedly and waited for the noble to take the first bite. The older man took a bite and chewed slowly.

It was amazing. He swallowed and took another bite, this one with both cabbage and rice.

"This has an acceptable flavor," the noble said after swallowing. "It is better with the rice." He looked up to see Abarai with an odd look on his face. His crimson eyes were half closed, focused somewhere on the noble's face.

Byakuya was not prepared for when the redhead reached out and ran his thumb over the outside corner of his lower lip. He inhaled sharply in surprise. Renji dropped his eyes and put the thumb in his mouth, licking off the sauce Byakuya had dripped.

"Perfect," he mumbled, thumb still in his mouth. Abruptly, his face turned red. "Oh! Gomen, taicho. I wasn't thinking."

Byakuya just stared at him, his mind a mass of confusion. What was this odd tugging in his chest? A simple touch from his fukutaicho wreaked havoc on his control. He wanted to bang his head on the table, run out of the room, and tear something to bits. It took all of his self-control to wave a hand nonchalantly and return to his food. Pink tinged his cheeks, and the noble wanted to die of embarrassment.

Such an unexpected event.

Abarai picked up his chopsticks and started eating. Both men were happy to forget the occurrence, talking of the sixth division training sessions and different things happening in Soul Society. But even with their friendly conversation, Kuchiki's mind kept wandering back to the feeling of Renji's warm thumb on his lip.

Abarai got up to get another bowl. The noble watched closely as the man walked to the stove. His broad shoulders were straight, his weight constantly on the balls of his feet, like he was always ready for a fight. Even in the secure manor, he was ready for anything. Belatedly, he noticed that he had left Zabimaru in the office. Abarai moved to grab the pot of rice, the fabric of his kosode stretching tightly across his back. From where he sat, Byakuya could see every muscle outlined, and if he looked closely, the dark tribal tattoos across his back were just visible through the fabric.

A faint knocking on the sliding door brought Kuchiki back to his senses.

"Enter."

The door slid open to reveal Mayuki with three black bundles.

"Kuchiki-sama, the shihakusho you ordered are here." The noble pushed back from the island and stood. He took the bundles from the old woman.

"Arigato, Mayuki. You may return to your duties." The woman bowed again and closed the door. The noble carefully set the black fabric on the island before returning to his meal. "Abarai, these are for you."

The redhead whipped around, a piece of pork half way to his open mouth, the sauce running slowly down his fingers.

"What?" he gaped, completely at a loss. "Taicho, you din't have ta do that."

The noble raised a hand to silence him. Was he really in enough shock to slip back into his Rukongai talk?

"It's a captain's responsibility to make sure his fukutaicho is properly clothed." Kuchiki stared at the juice dripping down Renji's fingers, resisting the urge to lick them clean. Where on earth did that thought come from?

"There's no way I can accept those." Renji answered, popping the pork into his mouth and wiping his hands on a towel found in a nearby drawer.

"They would not be of much good to me, Abarai fukutaicho. They are your size and therefore much too large for me. I insist that you take them."

The redhead leaned against the counter and stared at the bundles.

"I guess I owe you one, taicho."

"You owe me nothing." Abarai moved to protest, but the noble simply raised a hand. "You said yourself that this meal would make us even. As far as I see, this meal is not yet over."

Abarai looked at him disbelievingly for a moment before a huge smile broke across his face.

"You sly dog," the redhead said, laughing. He grabbed his bowl and returned to his seat next to the captain.

The captain raised an eyebrow before returning to his half-empty bowl. Abarai got the hint and backed off. They continued the meal in companionable silence, occasionally commenting on the squad or the weather. Before Kuchiki had finished his first bowl, Abarai had already gotten up twice to refill his.

"You don't eat much, do you?" Abarai asked as he fixed his third helping.

"Compared to you, an elephant doesn't eat much," Kuchiki replied evenly.

Abarai looked him, shocked. He blinked, let out something close to a laugh, and returned to shoveling food into his mouth. It amazed Kuchiki at the sheer amount of food his fukutaicho was consuming. Not even finished with his first bowl, the noble's stomach was beginning to feel stretched.

Finally, Abarai pushed back his empty bowl with a triumphant and contented 'ha'. He leaned back, stretching like a cat in his chair. Kuchiki dropped his chopsticks into his now empty bowl.

"Thank you for lunch, Abarai. It was adequate."

"No problem, taicho. I'm glad you liked it." He stood and grabbed one of the bundles. "I'm gonna go change, then we'll head back to the office."

The noble nodded and the redhead slid open the door, almost running over Mayuki. Kuchiki turned in his chair to address the woman.

"Take Abarai-fukutaicho somewhere he can change in private, then return here to clean up the kitchen," the woman bowed deeply. She turned on a heel and left, not checking to see if Abarai followed. The redhead threw an awkward glance over his shoulder before following the petite woman. Closing the door behind the retreating pair, Kuchiki was faced with an empty kitchen. He realized how dry his mouth was and went to prepare tea. His hands were occupied in the routine task, but the noble's mind wandered.

Abarai's cooking had been fantastic. As a noble, Kuchiki had tried many dishes made by many fine chefs but had never before tasted something so simply delicious. It made him curious as to what else his fukutaicho was capable of. Kuchiki knew Abarai's fighting style inside and out, but realized with some shock that he did not know his vice-captain at all. The redhead beneath the sixth division's lieutenant's badge was a mystery to him, one that he seemed remarkably set on investigating.

Kuchiki consciously smoothed out his features before they locked into a look of confusion. For reasons unknown to the noble, odd thoughts had continually been worming their way into his mind, undermining his icy control. His fukutaicho seemed to be the root of all of these occurrences. Between his brash personality and unknown culinary skills, the noble was shocked to find how close the pair had become and how _comfortable_ he felt around the younger shinigami.

The shoji opened as Kuchiki was pouring the tea. He felt rather than heard Mayuki enter the kitchen. As she tidied up the mess Abarai had made, the noble sipped quietly from his cup. He quickly finished it and poured himself another glass. The second time the door slid open, Kuchiki grabbed both glasses and turned to face his fukutaicho.

Abarai stood in the doorway, securing his fiery red hair into its customary ponytail. The new shihakusho fit perfectly, cut slightly closer to his body than his previous uniform. The noble could see the outline of his muscles when the vice-captain moved. Before Abarai could enter the kitchen, Kuchiki spoke up as he crossed the kitchen.

"We will be having tea in the garden," the noble offered the unused cup to Abarai, who took it with a shocked look. Kuchiki breezed past the taller man, leading him out onto the wooden walkway that surrounded the center gardens. Content with the view, the captain sat carefully on the porch, crossing his legs under him before inviting his vice-captain to sit next to him. Abarai plopped down directly next to the captain, close enough Kuchiki could feel the heat rolling from the redhead's body.

It crossed his mind to move away, but he found that the close proximity of the other man was not uncomfortable. Instead, he simply looked out at the garden and sipped his tea.

The summer breeze rustled through the trees and countless flowers, carrying with it the smell of running water and the unique tang of Abarai Renji. The noble realized belatedly that he was sitting downwind of his fukutaicho as another breeze brushed a long tendril of red hair softly against his cheek. In all of the time that the Kuchiki noble had spent with his fukutaicho, he had never noticed his scent. Yet, today he had been assaulted by it twice. He smelled faintly of sweat and blood, sweets and something unidentifiably masculine. It was all together not an unpleasant thing.

Kuchiki found himself breathing deeply. Forcing himself to stop without really considering the reason he had been gulping air like a half-drowned man, the noble took a long sip of his tea.

"Oi! Taicho," Renji came abruptly out of his internal musings, making the noble start slightly. "I meant to ask you earlier. Why don't you and Yoruichi-sama get along?"

Kuchiki set his cup down on the floor in front of him and gathered his thoughts before speaking.

"I knew Yoruichi when I was a child. She would show up during my training to 'play'. Without fail, she would always do something to get a rise out me."

"Like what?" Abarai seemed truly interested.

"She called me Byahime for one. And she would do things like-" Completely on impulse, Kuchiki flash stepped behind his fukutaicho, leaning in close to his ear. "-this," he whispered, his voice surprisingly husky, as he pulled Renji's hair tie out. He ignored the shiver that ran down his vice-captain's spine.

By the time Renji's hair fell to his shoulders, his captain was standing on the roof of the building across the gardens. Byakuya watched as Renji's jaw dropped and face flushed.

"If you want it back," he called, waving the hair tie lazily, his face stoic as ever, "you will have to come get it." Glancing at the sun, the captain added more to himself than anyone, "it is about time we head back to the office anyways." Turning back only to make sure Abarai was following, the captain began flash stepping back to Seireitei, keeping his fukutaicho a taunting distance away.

Kuchiki appeared back in Seireitei, barely missing Unohana-taicho as she left the fourth Division's barracks.

"Good afternoon, Kuchiki-taicho. What are you doing on this fine day?"

"Unohana-taicho," he said inclining his head. He watched as Unohana's eyes flickered behind him where his fukutaicho had appeared, panting. "Endurance training," Kuchiki answered.

Unohana took a step back and smiled warmly. "Well, don't let me get in the way of Abarai-fukutaicho's training. Have a good day."

Kuchiki nodded and disappeared once again just as Abarai reached out for his hair tie. He heard his vice-captain groan before following after him.

The noble stopped again outside the sixth division offices. In his mind, he counted down the seconds until Abarai would catch up. He felt a burst of reiatsu from the end of the hall and he turned to face his vice-captain. As his internal timer chimed zero, Abarai came crashing into his captain, sending them both to the ground.

Byakuya stared up into the auburn eyes of his vice-captain, not quite red, and not quite brown. Renji was straddling the older shinigami, his forearms on the ground on either side of the captain's head. He was breathing hard, trying to catch his breath. His red hair hung like a curtain of liquid fire, effectively blocking out the rest of the world. A thin sheen of sweat made his dark tattoos stand out even more. His mouth was open slightly, hot puffs of breath escaping from his pale lips, their faces only inches apart. He was dizzy from the feel of Renji's breath on his lips and the overwhelming heat rolling off his body. Byakuya realized belatedly that he had thrown his hands out to keep the taller man from running full force into him and that his hands where still pressed against Renji's wide chest. He could feel the redhead's heart beating and their reiatsu mixing together in the close quarters.

Byakuya's breath hitched, an odd warmth bubbling up in his stomach. He could feel the heavy pounding in his chest, his pulse raging so quickly that he thought his heart might leap from his body

"Taicho," Renji panted, bringing Byakuya back to the present situation. He pulled his shattered control around him, effectively cutting off the blush that threatened to spill across his cheeks.

"Abarai-fukutaicho," Kuchiki's voice was cold, even. It slapped Abarai back to his senses. His eyes widened and he scrambled off his captain.

"Gomenasai, taicho!" He apologized profusely as he stood up and offered a hand to his captain. "I misjudged the distance. I didn't expect you to stop." Kuchiki ignored the offered hand, standing by himself.

"Why wouldn't I stop, Abarai? We've reached our destination." To make a point, the captain gestured to the number painted on the door. Abarai looked around, his eyes wide. "You weren't paying attention to your surroundings," the noble surmised. "You just blindly followed my reiatsu. If you had been paying attention you could have figured out where I was heading and set a course to cut me off." The redhead hung his head shamefully.

"I was just trying to catch up."

"If you cannot outrun your enemy, outsmart them. It's a simple concept, one you must understand in order to become stronger."

Abarai nodded and opened the door to the office.

"Abarai," Kuchiki said, making the vice-captain turn back to face him. "I am going to see Ukitake-taicho out at the Thirteenth's barracks. I expect your paperwork to be finished by the time I return."

"Hai, taicho," Abarai bowed, his hair spilling over his shoulders.

"Here," Kuchiki said, pressing the hair tie into his fukutaicho's hand.

"Arigato," the redhead bowed again, the noble already gone before he straightened back up.

Kuchiki reappeared down the hall. He walked slowly towards Ukitake's division, mindlessly returning the greetings of the shinigami he passed. Ukitake-taicho was an old friend of Kuchiki's, and even though they had been through a lot together, the noble was still nervous about confiding with the white-haired man. As he got closer to the barracks, he stopped a non-ranking shinigami.

"Is Ukitake-taicho in today?" His voice was even and he reigned in his reiatsu as to seem as unintimidating as possible. He watched as the man struggled to speak in his presence.

"H-h-hai, K-Kuchiki-taicho. H-h-he's in his o-office." The shinigami bowed deeply, as in apology for his stuttering. The noble nodded and excused himself. Coming to the door to the Thirteenth's offices, Kuchiki sidestepped the two bothersome third seats and gently rapped his knuckles against the wood. There was a moment of rustling, then a single softly spoken word.

"Enter."

Kuchiki took a deep breath and pushed the shoji open. Ukitake was sitting at a low table, Shunsui lounging across from him, seemingly asleep under his straw hat.

"Ah, Byakuya!" The white-haired shinigami beamed. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I wish to talk to you about some odd...occurrences between my fukutaicho and myself. I was hoping that you could assist me in figuring out the reasons behind them."

"I'm always here to help, Byakuya. Please, sit." He gestured to where the other captain was napping. "Shunsui," Ukitake said, trying to rouse the man. "SHUNSUI!" the sleeping captain jerked awake.

"Jeez, Ukitake, trying to give me a heart attack? You're worse than Nanao-chan."

"Get up and let Byakuya-taicho sit there." Kuchiki stood awkwardly as dark eyes appraised him.

"Yare, yare." Shunsui stretched and stood, walking around the table to wrap himself around Ukitake, falling once again into a deep sleep, his head resting on the other captain's leg. Kuchiki's eyes widened minutely at the blatant display of affection between the two older men. Ukitake turned his smiling face back to the noble and extended a hand towards the now empty cushion.

"Don't mind Shunsui. He's like a cat, he can sleep anywhere... and normally does." Kuchiki ignored it when Ukitake dropped his chocolate brown eyes affectionately to the sleeping man in his lap, a pale hand smoothing out the folds in Shunsui's flowered yukata. He walked silently around the table and sat on the cushion still warm from Shunsui's body heat. "Let me get some tea."

Before the captain could move, the shoji burst open, his two third seats tripping over each other to get into the room. Almost immediately, they began bickering. Ukitake cast a despairing look towards the other captain before turning in his seat, careful not to shake the sleeping man in his lap.

"Kiyone, could you get us some tea?" Ukitake asked, a smile firmly in place. Kiyone did a triumphant dance and made a face at the brown haired man. "Sentaro, could you please find some snacks?" Sentaro immediately returned the face Kiyone had made. Again, the two third seats scrambled over each other, trying to be the first one to fulfill their captain's wishes. Ukitake turned back and caught the look of slight disdain on Kuchiki's face.

"They mean well," Ukitake said in explanation.

"I do not know what I would do if my officers acted in such a way."

"I manage, somehow," Ukitake chuckled, "though just barely."

With that statement, Kuchiki felt his icy mask melt away. Ukitake was one person the noble could always be himself around. Kuchiki was still painfully formal, but he didn't try to hide his facial expressions or nervous habits.

Ukitake could read his mask even better than Abarai.

While Abarai slowly chipped away at the captain's stony exterior, Ukitake found cracks already there and simply made it where the mask wanted to break on its own.

Ukitake smiled and held up a hand, fingers splayed. He closed his eyes and slowly folded his fingers, one at a time, in silent count down. The moment his hand clenched into a fist, the shoji was thrown violently back and Kiyone and Sentaro tried to push their way in simultaneously. Colorful insults were hurled back and forth in the doorway before a lighthearted order from their captain subdued them. Kiyone entered first, setting a tray with three glasses and a steaming kettle of tea. Not to be outdone, Sentaro placed his tray on the opposite side of the table, the silver covered in different treats, crackers, and sandwiches. Kuchiki noticed Kiyone's eye twitch as she looked at the spread her rival had brought.

"Thank you. Please make sure the training grounds are ready for this afternoon's session." The two third seats bowed deeply before fighting their way out of the room. As the shoji banged closed behind them, Ukitake sighed. "That should keep them busy for a while."

"Does it normally take them a long period of time to ready the fields?" Kuchiki asked, sipping from the cup Ukitake offered him.

"They've got to find the training field first. Honestly, they put in less hours training than I do." Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded like an insult, but Ukitake's voice held nothing but affection. "Either way, it should keep them from eavesdropping on our conversation. I have a feeling its not something you'd want published in Seireitei Monthly."

"It most certainly is not. Would they really do something like that, even knowing it would anger me?"

"They have no sense of self, so probably. But enough about my subordinates, you came here to talk about Abarai-kun, no?"

"Hai," Kuchiki mumbled and took another sip of tea. He was trying to gather his thoughts, but it was extremely difficult with Shunsui's sudden snoring. He shot a look at the sleeping captain.

"Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of Shunsui, not that he's much of an audience at the moment. Everything said within these four walls will stay between us." Ukitake's voice was sharp, telling Kuchiki with no words to stop looking for excuses.

Kuchiki sighed and took another sip of tea.

"Abarai and I have had a fickle past, of that you are aware. Lately, however, I've noticed a shift in the way we see each other."

"More like equals?" Ukitake guessed.

"Exactly. More like friends." Kuchiki adverted his eyes. Keeping eye contact while he talked seemed impossible, Ukitake's brown eyes shining with knowledge and sympathy.

"And?" Ukitake urged when the silence stretched longer than acceptable. Kuchiki noticed with some mirth that the white-haired captain seemed everything like a housewife, eager for the latest gossip.

"And I'm noticing things I've never noticed before, like how he looks after training or with his hair down, or how he smells."

"Does he smell bad?"

"No, that's not it. Today, I let him spar with Kurosaki Ichigo as a form of punishment for being late again."

"Didn't see that one coming. I know you don't approve of Kurosaki-kun."

"He came back injured. He threw open the door, his reiatsu raging. He was bleeding from the chest and the arm, his hair band missing. He came in and removed his kosode, standing bare-chested in the middle of the room. That's when I first noticed how...developed he was and how his tattoos looked spread across his back."

Ukitake looked at the slightly blushing captain across the top of his tea. His eyes showed understanding, but he simply pushed for more information.

"And what did the Fourth Division make of that?"

"The Fourth Division did not get involved." Byakuya answered, sidestepping the intent of the question.

"So you just let a half-naked man bleed out in your office?"

"No," the noble answered curtly, still not meeting his eyes. "I healed him."

Ukitake almost choked on his tea.

"Again, did not see that one coming. You never touch anyone much less heal them." The older shinigami took a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. "Forgive me. That was unnecessary. You are well aware of your own behavior. What else?"

"Healing him left me unusually faint. I stood to get a book and Abarai came up behind me to help me, as he is taller than I. I began feeling light-headed while reaching for the book and did not notice when my sleeve fell back to reveal my arm. Abarai was not so unobservant to miss the marks." The dark haired shinigami absently rubbed his hands over his forearms, a movement not lost on Ukitake. "He grabbed my arm and turned me around, asking what happened."

"And did you tell him?" Ukitake was the first one to know of Kuchiki's run-in with Senbonzakura as he was the one who found him bleeding in his room. His words held no judgment.

"Yes," Byakuya answered, breathless. "I felt that I owed him an explanation even though he did not insist on one. Maybe that was why."

"Perhaps," Ukitake answered, his hand straying to Shunsui's shoulder. Kuchiki fell into silence, his thoughts refusing to gather into a logical manner. "What else?" Ukitake urged.

"I invited him to lunch at the manor," the noble ignored Ukitake's sharp intake of breath and kept talking, afraid he'd loose his train of thought. "I had forgotten that I had ordered the kitchen staff to take the day off. Abarai offered to cook lunch as to repay me for healing him. I don't even know why I agreed, but I did."

"What'd he make?" Ukitake asked, munching quietly on a small sandwich.

"Shogayaki." Kuchiki answered, taking a sip of tea. "He served it with rice and cabbage. It was quite delicious. While trying it I must have dripped some of the sauce on my lip. Abarai reached out and wiped it off for me, before I even knew it was there. Absentmindedly, he put his thumb in his mouth, tasting it. He apologized for overstepping his bounds, and we continued eating. Abarai is an amazing cook. It was at that point in time I realized I didn't know him as well as I thought I did."

Ukitake just silently nodded, encouraging the younger shinigami to continue.

"Afterwards, we were sitting together, looking out at the gardens and he asked me about my relationship with Yoruichi. Completely on a whim, I did something terribly childish." Ukitake raised a dark eyebrow. "I took his hair tie like Yoruichi used to and started a game of flash tag. Abarai's shunpo is in much need of work." Absentmindedly, Kuchiki reached out and grabbed a small cracker to nibble on.

"I take it he didn't catch you?"

"No, he was always at least three seconds behind and I wasn't even trying." Kuchiki wrinkled his nose at the taste, but continued eating anyway.

"And he didn't try to cut you off?" Ukitake sounded genuinely shocked.

"No, he just followed me." The longer he stared at it, the less in focus the far wall became. He shook his head and looked at his friend.

"Interesting," was all he said.

"He didn't even realize when I stopped and ran headlong into me, throwing us both to the floor. He was panting and trying to catch his breath and he was just so _close_." Dark eyes closed at the memory. "He just sat there, looking at me for a moment, before I finally said something. Then he got up and started apologizing. I sent him inside to do paperwork and I came here."

"That doesn't seem like anything too out of the ordinary. Certainly a lot happened today, but it can't possibly be too much for you to handle on your own." Ukitake was hiding something, some sort of idea, and Byakuya could hear it in his voice. He decided to ignore the look in his eyes.

"It wasn't so much as the happenings of today as my reactions to them."

Ukitake suddenly sat forward, his eyes ablaze.

"Let me ask you this, when Abarai-kun stood close to you earlier, did you feel lightheaded?"

Kuchiki nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

"And when he touched you, did you get shivers?"

Another nod.

"When he cooked for you, did you get any odd urges to touch him?"

A hesitant nod. The fire in Ukitake's eyes was growing along with the smile of his face.

"When he...tackled you, for lack of a better term, did it feel like your heart would burst from your chest?"

Kuchiki nodded again, amazed at how much Ukitake knew.

"And did you feel like-"

"Ravishing him?" Shunsui supplied, earning sharp looks from both men. "What?" he asked, peeking out from under his hat. "Too soon?"

Kuchiki barely contained a blush and tried to hide behind his teacup. There was no way he thought of Abarai _that_ way.

Did he?

As he thought about it, the unfathomable concept seemed to set perfectly with the turn of events. Kuchiki resisted dropping his head to the table as he realized how blind he had been. With Hisana, love had come slowly and sweetly, just like her. But now, these feelings around Abarai exploded through his chest like molten lava, turning his control into dust.

The two sensations were both insanely close and impossibly far apart.

"What should I do?" Kuchiki asked, determined.

"Romance him!" Ukitake exclaimed, back to the doting housewife. Byakuya could see stars in his eyes, as if the older shinigami was already planning a wedding.

"Romance?" Kuchiki asked, the word foreign in his mouth. "How?"

"Being a real romantic is a little like being slightly, enjoyably drunk," Shunsui answered, fishing a sake bottle out of the folds of his haori.

"You want me to get him drunk?" Kuchiki asked, confused.

"No," Ukitake answered at the same time Shunsui said yes. The shot each other a look.

"Anyway, you have to tell him how you feel. If you can't put it into words, put it into your actions. Use his first name with no honorific."

Kuchiki tried to imagine calling the redhead anything except Abarai and failed.

"Write him a letter," Ukitake suggested.

"In your best calligraphy," Shunsui added.

"Buy him flowers," Ukitake's eyes lit up.

"Red ones for passion," Shunsui chimed, sitting up.

"Take him on a trip," Ukitake was rising up, seemingly borne on his crazy ideas.

"To a carnival," Shunsui seemed caught up in the same moment.

Kuchiki just sat back and watched them as their ideas became more and more fantastical.

"Get a banner!"

"That says I love you in fifteen languages!"

"Come to the door scantily clad!"

"In just your captain's haori!"

"Give him chocolate!"

"Feed it to him!"

"Name a boat after him!"

Kuchiki cleared his throat, bringing both men back to earth. Ukitake was fully standing, his arms half raised. Shunsui had his hands wrapped around Ukitake's waist, his hat missing. Ukitake shook himself, then pushed Shunsui off from around his waist.

"Excuse me. I got a little caught up."

Kuchiki smiled.

"There's something that seems effective," Shunsui said, burrowing under the hat that had fallen to the floor. "Smile at him."

Kuchiki Byakuya left the thirteenth division with a plan half-formed in his mind. Ukitake had been minimal help, mostly just helping him realize what was right in front of his face. The noble shook his head again as he thought of the tireless antics he had just been through. Arriving at the sixth division, Kuchiki stopped at the door to collect himself. He set his face in its normal listless expression and smoothed the edges of his reiatsu. He took a deep breath to steel himself against anything his vice-captain could throw at him.

Kuchiki was determined to simply observe and learn about his fukutaicho in a completely objective way.

That determination was shattered when he pushed the door open.

Abarai was asleep on his desk, drooling on a stack of paperwork. The normal sharp planes of his face were softened in sleep, his chest rising and falling silently.

Kuchiki silently closed the door behind him and walked to his vice-captain's desk. He smiled at the peaceful expression on his face. Normally, the noble would fly off the handle, in his own way, and abruptly awake the other man. Faced with his recent discovery, Kuchiki saw it as endearingly annoying. He leaned down, close to Abarai's ear and whispered a single word.

"Renji," He said, tasting the name on his lips for the first time.

The younger man stirred on his desk, his auburn eyes fluttering open to rest on the navy ones of his captain dreamily. He closed his mouth and smiled before abruptly remembering what he was doing. Abarai shot up in his seat with such force, he knocked the chair backwards and went sprawling.

"Kuchiki-taicho!" He exclaimed, fighting with a piece of paper that had stuck to his face.

"Good morning, Abarai," Kuchiki answered, almost sardonically. "You've got ink on your face."

The redhead stared at him blankly for a moment before looking at the traitorous piece of paper in his hands. He began rubbing his face on his sleeve, succeeding only in smearing the ink around.

"Well, that was a stack of reports that you needed to sign," Abarai explained, still rubbing his face. "Forgive me, taicho, for falling asleep on them. I'll rewrite them and have them to you before I leave."

The noble nodded, silently appraising the redhead. Abarai picked himself up off the floor, absently dusting his pants. Suddenly, he had an idea.

"Spar with me."

Abarai almost fell to the floor again in shock.

"What?"

"Talking with Ukitake made me realize how little training I do. So please, spar with me."

Abarai shrugged his shoulders and reached for where Zabimaru leaned against his desk.

"Leave it," Kuchiki answered, already halfway to the door. "I wish to work on hand to hand combat." Again, Abarai's mouth gaped, completely in shock at his captain. "Close your mouth, Abarai. You look like a fish." The captain breezed from the room, effectively hiding his smile.

Outside on the training grounds, Kuchiki found it easier to think as Abarai tried to land a punch. Here, he could read the redhead's every move, admire the muscles that danced beneath dark skin without feeling awkward. Here, he could put everything out of his mind and simply focus on the moment.

Every blow was blocked effectively and efficiently, not a single movement wasted. Abarai was obviously not taking the sparring match seriously, his punches slow and his eyes elsewhere. The noble took advantage of his attitude, catching a blow in his vice-captain's side.

"What?" was all he said, looking at the captain incredulously.

"You are not taking this seriously," Kuchiki admonished as he threw a punch towards the taller man's head. Abarai threw up an arm to block it, just in time. A look of determination crossed the redhead's features. He twisted and aimed a kick at Kuchiki's stomach.

Just like the noble knew he would.

Kuchiki grabbed his leg and pulled, throwing the taller man off balance. He grabbed his startled vice-captain's arms and they fell, tumbling to the ground. The noble had the taller shinigami effectively pinned.

"Yield," the noble ordered as Abarai bucked, trying to gain the upper hand.

"Never," Abarai answered, trying to overpower the shorter man.

Kuchiki leaned in close and ran his lips lightly across the redhead's strong jaw line. "Yield, _Renji_," he whispered lightly into his ear.

Renji went instantly still beneath him. "I yield," he whispered, his voice husky.

Byakuya pushed up and let go of Renji's arms to get up.

"Oh, no you don't," Renji reached up and wrapped a fist in Byakuya's scarf, pulling him roughly back down. "You won't get off that easily."

Their lips touched, lightly at first then more insistently. Byakuya found he could not breathe and that it did not matter. All that mattered was the feel of Renji against him. For the second time that day, Byakuya pulled Renji's hair free, his pale hands entwining with the soft, fiery locks.

Renji bit lightly at his bottom lip, making Byakuya gasp. Suddenly he was assaulted by even more sensations as he tasted his fukutaicho. Reiatsu sparked wildly around them as they pressed against one another, just trying to get _closer_. Byakuya pulled away, panting and trailing kisses down Renji's neck, tasting his tattoos. Renji gasped, one hand still fisted in the scarf, the other roaming Byakuya's chest.

"Byakuya," Renji whispered.

Byakuya leaned back, appraising the man under him. Renji's hair was spread around him like a halo. His eyes were half closed, his breathing ragged. A smile quirked his swollen lips.

Byakuya smiled, big and genuine. He kissed Renji lightly on the nose and with a burst of reiatsu, disappeared, leaving Renji laying dazed on the dirt of the sixth division training field, a silk scarf in his hand.

A few weeks later, the full moon dawned to find a restless Byakuya awake and staring at a moon-bleached garden. His white yukata was disheveled, midnight hair falling free. He heard movement behind him as Renji climbed out of bed and came over to where Byakuya stood.

"Am I awake?" Byakuya asked as dark arms snaked around his waist. "Its nights like these I can never tell."

"You're awake," Renji answered, kissing his neck. Byakuya closed his eyes for a moment.

"Senbonzakura always did like the moonlight." Byakuya raised a thin hand. The moonlight made the scars on his arms more apparent.

"Tell me about your inner world. Where is it you go to gain strength?" Renji's voice was soft as he rested his chin on the shorter man's shoulder.

"Look around you, Renji. This is practically it. A landscape bleached to blue, a hill surrounded by pale wildflowers, and a single sakura tree, constantly shedding flowers like rain."

"Sounds...peaceful."

"It is," Byakuya's voice was soft. "But so cold. What about you? Where do you draw your strength?"

"It's bright, and hot, and dry. Lots of rocks, not exactly mountains, but huge jagged pillars of rock. And there's one bottomless pool of dark water."

Byakuya leaned against the taller man with a sigh. Renji traced the pale lines crisscrossing Byakuya's chest.

"Sounds like you," Byakuya mumbled.

"It is me." Renji chuckled and Byakuya could feel his chest rumble. "That reminds me, I got a package from Urahara today. I ordered something for you." The redhead walked away, leaving the older shinigami feeling cold. He continued staring at the moon while listening to Renji dig around. There was a sigh of relief, crinkling of plastic, then footsteps. Again, warm arms encircled the shorter man.

"Here." Renji lifted a box roughly the size of his hand. Byakuya gasped as he reached out for it. It was a dark cherry wood box with enough lacquer to make it radiant in the moonlight. On the lid, a russet wolf was wrapped around a mother-of-pearl moon. Byakuya lightly ran his fingers over the engraved sides, a dark pattern almost impossible to see, but Byakuya knew what was there. It was the same exotic pattern as what marked Renji's skin, a pattern that Byakuya could trace in his sleep.

"Renji," he breathed. The normally eloquent captain was at a loss for words.

"Open it."

Carefully, Byakuya pulled back the lid. It clicked open and stole his breath. A familiar tune clinked like chimes from somewhere beneath the pale pink silk lining.

"It's the song you hum unconsciously when you're in a good mood. It took me forever to figure out what it was, but I must say its very fitting for you."

"What is it called?" Byakuya asked, finding his voice.

"Sakura Sakura."

"Hmm," Byakuya made a noise in the back of his throat. "What are these?" He reached in the music box and pulled out a dark disk.

"Cookies," Renji said, reaching for one.

"You know I do not enjoy sweets," Byakuya said, staring at the offending cookie in his hand.

"Trust me," Renji said, pressing one to Byakuya's mouth. With a silent eye roll, Byakuya took a bite. His mouth filled first with the taste of mint, then the dark, smooth taste of chocolate. He swallowed and took another bite of the cookie in Renji's hand.

"What are these?" Byakuya asked, not admitting aloud how good it was.

"Thin Mints. They're the Girl Scout cookies I told you about. I knew you'd like them." Renji carefully took the music box from Byakuya's hands, setting it aside, still open.

Byakuya turned around in his arms, studying the taller man. Even the moon could not rob Renji's hair of its color as it hung loose around his shoulders. His skin was pasty, his black tattoos standing in even greater contrast. Renji was only in a pair of boxer shorts he had become so fond of in the real world. Byakuya ran his hands down the redhead's lithe torso, both infinitely familiar and exotic. He felt Renji tremor under his fingertips. Looking up, he found Renji's dark eyes locked on his.

"Thank you," Byakuya breathed, reaching up to touch his lips against Renji's. For _everything_, he added silently as the kiss deepened.

In the background, the music box chimed away.

_**sakura sakura**_

Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms,

_**no-yama mo sato mo**_

On Meadow-hills and mountains

_**mi-watasu kagiri**_

As far as you can see.

_**kasumi ka kumo ka**_

Is it a mist, or clouds?

_**asahi ni niou**_

Fragrant in the morning sun.

_**sakura sakura**_

Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms,

_**hana-zakari**_

Flowers in full bloom

_**sakura sakura**_

Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms,

_**yayoi no sora wa**_

Across the spring sky,

_**mi-watasu kagiri**_

As far as you can see.

_**kasumi ka kumo ka**_

Is it a mist, or clouds?

_**nioi zo izuru**_

Fragrant in the air.

_**iza ya iza ya**_

Come now, come,

_**mi ni yukan**_

Let's look, at last!


End file.
